Andromeda Black Chronicles: Sorcerer's Stone
by BookNerd28
Summary: Everything you think you know... is wrong. Everyone thought it was the Golden Trio - Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But one important charcter was left out: Andromeda Black, daughter of the infamous Sirius Black. And so it was really the Golden Quartet: Harry, Ron, Andie and Hermione. A retelling of the HP series with Andie. First story, please read and review!
1. Author's Note

Okay, this is my first ever fan fiction, so please try to be nice.

This story is a retelling of the Harry Potter series, with the addition of Sirius Black's daughter, Bianca.

I'm not sure if I'll do the whole entire series, but for now, I'm just gonna focus on the Sorcerer's Stone.

I may not get all of the British phrases correct, seeing as I'm American, but I am committed to this idea, and will give it my best try.

Please, please, please, please, (thousands more pleases) review, comment, etc. This is my first story and I need to know how I'm doing. Plus, they make me so happy :P

Hope you enjoy the Bianca Black Chronicles!


	2. The Letter

"Andie… Andie… Andie!"

My aunt may have been the sweetest person I knew, but she was a morning person, which automatically deserved murder in my book

I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my head into the pillows, but nothing could block out my aunt's booming voice.

"Andromeda Lily Black!"

I sighed and opened my eyes begrudgingly.

"What!?" I shouted, not moving.

"Could you come downstairs, please?"

"No," I yelled, flipping onto my stomach and burrowing my head underneath my pillow.

"Why not?" Aunt Lyra tried to sound upset, but I could clearly hear the smile in her voice.

I lifted my head out from underneath my pillow, scowling. "I understand that you're a very chipper morning person, and that's just fine, Aunt Lyra. But, there happen to be some people in this house that are deeply in love with sleep."

"Alright then," Aunt Lyra said, still way to chipper peppy for a Saturday morning. "I guess I'll just toss out this Hogwarts letter."

I sprang right up, jumped out of bed, and ran downstairs, screaming, "Don't you dare!"

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Aunt Lyra was standing there, holding a envelope made of yellowish parchment, the address written in emerald green ink, with no stamp, indicating that the letter had arrived by owl post.

Aunt Lyra was just smirking, handing the letter out to me. I wasted no time, and grabbed it, turning the envelope over excitedly, noticing the purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large _H_.

I fervently ripped the envelope open, pulled out the letter and read:

Hogwarts School

of

Witchcraft _and _Wizardry

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Black,

We are please to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await you own no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I looked up at Aunt Lyra, beaming.

She smiled back at me and said, "I think this calls for a trip to Diagon Alley,"

AN: I know that it's kinda short, but I wanted to save the Diagon Alley part for the next chapter. Reviews are like chocolate chip cookies! (My favorite)


	3. Diagon Alley

I'd only been to London a few times, but after breakfast we all drove to the famous Leaky Cauldron - a tiny, grubby-looking pub.

When I saw "we," I mean my Aunt Lyra, Uncle Sawyer, and cousin, Helena.

Helena was three years younger than me, just eight years old. She'd be going be going to Hogwarts herself, in three years, but for today she kept telling me how jealous she was that I got to go. I couldn't blame her; I'd heard all the stories from Aunt Lyra and Uncle Sawyer. Especially, the story of famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Over a decade ago, the darkest wizard of the ages, who called himself Lord Voldemort, was all-powerful, killing families left and right. It was very dark times. Voldemort started to gather some followers and brought them over to the Dark Side. Anyone who stood up to him ended up dead. Harry Potter's parents, James and Lily, fought against lived once he decided to kill them. Nobody, not one. Except Harry. Uncle Sawyer says he has one recognizable feature - a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, resulting from Voldemort's curse. A mark from that only comes from being touched by an evil curse. I had asked Uncle Sawyer what happened to Voldemort - or as everyone in the Wizarding world called him, because they were too afraid to say the same, You-Know-Who. After that Halloween night, when he went after Harry, he just disappeared. Some say he died. Yeah, right. I reckon he's out there still, too tired to carry on. But one thing's absolutely certain. Something about Harry stumped him that night. That's why he's so famous. That's why everybody born into Wizarding families know his name. That's why he's the Boy-Who-Lived.

Anyway, back to the Leaky Cauldron. You wouldn't have noticed it, if you didn't know it was there. The people hurrying by didn't even glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other side, as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. Which was just how it was, it was invisible to Muggle eyes.

It may have been famous to the magical world, but it was very dark and shabby.

We silently walked through the Leaky Cauldron, out into the small, walled courtyard behind the building, where there was nothing but a trash can and a couple of weeds.

Aunt Lyra pulled out her wand and tapped the wall three times with the point.

The brick she had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later we were facing an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

Uncle Sawyer announced, "Welcome to Diagon Alley, girls!" grinning at mine and Helena's obvious amazement. We all stepped through the archway. Helena poked me in the shoulder and pointed behind us. I looked quickly over my shoulder to see the archway fold back into a solid wall.

The sun shone brightly over a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-stirring - Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"You'll be needing one," Aunt Lyra announced. "But we need to go get your money first."

"My money?" I asked, quizzically.

"You didn't really think your mum and dad would leave you with nothing, did you?" Aunt Lyra said, smiling.

I was in such a good mood, I didn't even comment about my dead-beat dad. I'm sure he didn't actually care, but I was too excited to think on that too much.

I really wish I had another pair of eyes. There was so much to take in, and I could only see so much, even with Helena pointing things out to me every two minutes.

A loud, soft hooting came from a dark shop saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several children around my age had their noses pressed against a window with multiple broomsticks in it. "It's a world-class racing broom," I heard one of them say. "Look, it's the new Nimbus 2000. It's the fastest model yet." Another one exclaimed.

There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments I had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…

"Gringotts," Helena whispered, awestruck, breaking me from my reverie.

They had reached a snowy white marble building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside it's burnished bronze doors, wearing a scarlet and gold uniform was…

"A goblin…" I said quietly as we walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about as tall as Helena, a head shorter than myself. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard, and very long fingers and feet. He bowed as we walked inside. Now we were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved on them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn. _

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

A pair of goblins bowed us through the silver doors and we were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Aunt Lyra, Uncle Sawyer, Helena, and I made for the counter.

"Morning," Uncle Sawyer said to a free goblin. "We need to take some money from Miss Andromeda Black's vault."

"You have her key, sir?"

"I do," Aunt Lyra said, reaching into her purse, and pulling out a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely before saying, "That seems to be in order,"

Well all followed the goblin toward one of the doors leading off the hall. He held the door open for us. We stepped into a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward us. We climbed in - with some difficulty - and were off.

At first we just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. It was impossible to remember - left, right, right, left, middle fork, left, right, left. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because the goblin wasn't steering.

Helena was starting to look a little green when the cart stopped beside a small door in the passage wall. "At last," she muttered, leaning against the wall.

"Vault 328," the goblin announced, unlocking the door. Once I saw the inside, I gasped. Inside were mounds of gold Galleons, columns of silver Sickles, and many piles of bronze Knuts.

Aunt Lyra helped me pile some of the money into a bag.

One wild cart ride later we stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts.

"Can I please see your school supplies list, Andie?" Helena asked, jumping a little bit.

"Sure, squirt," I replied, digging my list out of my pocket and reading it over again with Helena.

Hogwarts School

_of _Witchcraft _and _Wizardry

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPTMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"That's ashame; you'd definitely make the team," Helena sympathized.

"Okay, so why don't you go get your uniform, while Sawyer, Helena, and I go to the apothecary and get your scales and such. That alright Bianca? Then we can all go to Flourish and Bloots and Ollivanders."

"Sounds good to me," I said.

**AN: **sorry i didn't get all of the diagon alley part uploaded. but this was getting a little long (to me, at least) and i decided to split it. but i'll have it up real soon. please review, comment, all that jazz! :)


	4. Ollivander's

AN: Forgot to say this before, but I OWN NOTHING! If I did, I'd be working on a actual book, not a Fanfic. Jo owns everything Potter, I'm just borrowing it for a while.

I entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions alone. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed in mauve.

I started to speak, when she interrupted me. "Hogwarts, dear?" I nodded. "Got the lot here - a young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood me on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over my head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," the boy said. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," I said.

"My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

After just a few minutes with this boy, I'd already made up my mind about him: he was a moronic bully.

"Have _you _got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"Yes," I said, but he might not have heard - or even cared - because he continued.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"When I can," I replied.

"I do _all _the time - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No one really knows until they get there, do they?" I asked, my dislike for this boy growing by the minute.

"True, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - image being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"No! My aunt was a Hufflepuff."

"What about your parents?" the boy continued in his drawling voice.

"My mum's dead and I've never known my dad,"

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were _our _kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean," I muttered, gritting my teeth.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old Wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

Before I could give this git a piece of my mind, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, dear," Not at all sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, I hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

I left and shop and found Uncle Sawyer, Aunt Lyra, and Helena exiting the apothecary. We all went to Flourish and Blotts, the book shop. The shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of strange symbols; and a few books with nothing in them at all. I was in heaven; reading was one of my favorite things to do. Even Helena, who'd barely read a thing in her life, was going crazy to get her hands on some of these. I practically had to drag her away from _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More) _by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

Ten minutes later Uncle Sawyer and Helena went to some shop, they wouldn't tell me which one, while Aunt Lyra and I walked over to Ollivanders wand shop. It was narrow and shabby, with peeling gold letters over the door that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Aunt Lyra sat on to wait.

I felt as through I had entered a very strict library. I looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of my neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice, causing me to jump.

An old man was standing before us, his wide, pale eyes shinning like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," I whispered.

"Ah, yes," said the man. "I thought I might be seeing you soon… Andromeda Black." It wasn't a question. "You look so much like your mother. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Eleven and two-third inches long, pliable, made of holly. Nice wand for transfiguration work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Fifteen inches. More powerful. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.

At that moment, Mr. Ollivander spotted Aunt Lyra behind me.

"Lyra Pearson! How nice to see you again… Ash, ten inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Aunt Lyra confirmed proudly.

"Well, now - Miss Black. Let me see." Mr. Ollivander pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"My right," I said.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round my head. As he measured he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magic substance, Miss Black. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another witch or wizard's wand."

I suddenly realized that the tape measurer, which was measuring between my nostrils, was doing so on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measurer crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Miss Black. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

I took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of my hand almost immediately. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite springy. Try -"

I tried - but I had barely risen the wand when it, too, was snatched away by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no - here, oak and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches, nice and supple."

I took the wand and right away felt a sudden warmth in my fingers. I raised the wand above my head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. Aunt Lyra clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good."

I paied Mr. Ollivander seven gold Galleons for the wand, and he bowed us from his shop.

Back on the street, Aunt Lyra and I ran into Uncle Sawyer and Helena, who were coming out of Eeylops Owl Emporium, with a silver cage. I ran over to them, shocked. Uncle Sawyer handed me the cage, which held a beautiful barn owl. Helena said, "You're going to need an owl of your own to write me, describing everything that happens this year."

I smiled hugely and we all left Diagon Alley.

I couldn't wait for September 1st.


	5. Platform 9 34

AN: I OWN NOTHING. PLEASE REVIEW, COMMENT, ETC.

I woke up at six o'clock on September 1st. It was really early for me, but I was too excited, not to mention nervous. A) this afternoon we'd all be heading to the train station, where I'd board the Hogwarts Express and B) it was my birthday. I was officially eleven years old.

I pulled on my jeans, a random t-shirt, and my favorite purple sweatshirt. I didn't really feel like walking through the station in my robes; I'd decided to change on the train. I'd checked - and triple checked - my Hogwarts list to make sure I had everything.

My eyes landed on the silver cage in the corner of my room, housing my new owl, who I'd decided to name Orion. (AN: anyone get the reference?)

After a birthday breakfast, (and the struggle of maneuvering my truck into the truck of the car) we all piled in and drove to King's Cross Station, where we arrived just after ten. Aunt Lyra and Uncle Sawyer heaved my trunk onto a cart and I wheeled it into the station, beaming the whole way.

We stopped in front of platforms nine and ten, as I pulled out my ticket. "Platform 9 ¾?" I whispered, confused. I looked up, seeing a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all. "What exactly am I supposed to do?"

"Not to worry," Aunt Lyra said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten." My eyes widened. "Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best to do it at a bit of a run. Go on, we'll catch up in a moment."

"Er - okay," I said reluctantly.

I pushed my trolley and started for the barrier. It sure did look solid.

I increased my speed, leaning forward on my cart, I broke into a run. I braced myself for some sort of impact… but none came.

I opened my eyes and saw a scarlet steam engine waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said: Hogwarts Express, Platform 9 ¾.

Smoke from the engine drifted over he heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between peoples' legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

After Uncle Sawyer and Aunt Lyra helped get my trunk loaded, we all said goodbye, Helena hugging me a little too tight, but I promised her I'd write as soon as I was Sorted.

I walked down the aisle, looking for a free compartment.

After walking down about half of the train, I came across a compartment with a single boy in it. I poked my head in, and asked him, "Anyone sitting there?"

The boy shook his head, and I sat down across from him, next to the window.

I was about to introduce myself, when the door of the compartment slid open and a young, redheaded boy came in.

"Excuse me, do you mind?" he asked us, pointing to the seat opposite myself, an inch or so away from the dark-haired boy. "Everywhere else is full."

"Not at all," said the boy

"Go ahead," I said, gesturing to the set.

The red-haired boy sat down and introduced himself right away. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter," the other boy replied.

My eyes bulged, but I didn't say anything. Mainly because Ron beat me to it.

"So-so, it's true," he stuttered incredulously. "I mean, do you really have the… the…"

"The what?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.

"The scar," Ron whispered, as if afraid if he spoke too loudly, he might be stuck down with lightning.

"Oh," Harry said, lifting his hair up to reveal a thin lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Wicked," Ron said, clearly amazed.

I rolled my eyes, which seemed to catch Ron's attention. He looked over at me and curiously asked, "And you are?"

"Andromeda Black, but I prefer Andie," I answered, recognizing the look of astonishment on Ron's face as I told him my name. Before he could comment, I said, "And yes, I know how unpopular and hated the Black family has been. A bunch of evil Slytherins, yadda, yadda, yadda. But, just so you know, I don't personally know any Blacks and my parents died when I was a baby, so I don't have a clue who my father is. I also despise Slytherin house. If any of that makes you feel any better." I finished with a smile.

After a moment of silence - which I spent worrying I'd said too much; I can never seem to keep my mouth shut it seems - Ron smiled reassuringly at me.

I smiled back and decided to fill in the silence. "So are all your family wizards?" I asked Ron.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So, you must know loads of magic already," Harry realized.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," Ron said to Harry. "What are they like?"

"Horrible - well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." Harry said.

"Five," said Ron, sounding gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was Quidditch captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "This is Scabbers. Pathetic, isn't he?"

"Just a little bit," I murmured sympathetically.

Probably trying to cheer Ron up, Harry began telling us how he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago. He told us about having to wear his cousin Dudley's - what cruel person would want to name their child that? - old clothes and never getting a proper birthday present.

I felt so bad for him.

"…and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort - "

Ron gasped.

"What?" Harry asked.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name!_" Ron exclaimed, sounding both shocked and impressed. I'd have thought you, of all people - "

"I'm not trying to be _brave _or anything, saying the name," Harry said. "I just never knew you shouldn't See what I mean? I've got loads to learn…. I bet," he trailed off, looking worried. "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be," I insisted calmly. "There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

While we had been talking, the train had carried us out of London. Now we were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep.

Just then, there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling dimpled woman slid our door back and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Ron smiled shyly, held up a bag of mushed sandwiches and said, "No, thanks. I'm all set." He smacked his lips in disappointment.

I didn't really get a chance to consider buying him a little something, because at that moment, Harry took a bunch of galleons out of his pocket and announced, "We'll take the lot!"

"Whoa," Ron and I both said, surprised at how much money this boy carried around.

I'd never had loads of money before, but I'd always been pretty well off.

A few minutes later, we were all sitting together - I had hesitated joining the boys, since we weren't exactly friends, but when Harry said, "Coming, Andie?" as though he had expected me to, I thought I might've been wrong - with bundles of sweets on the seat. There was Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and much more.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" Harry asked, holding up a box.

"They mean every flavor," Ron warned. "There's chocolate and pepermint, and there's also spinach and liver and tripe. George swears he got a bogey flavored one once."

"Yeah, but it's kinda fun," I said. I picked up a green bean, looked it over carefully, and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh. Sprouts."

We had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. I got baked bean, strawberry, grass, and coffee. Harry got toast, coconaut, curry, and sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end of a funny gray one Ron and I wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

"These aren't real frogs, are they?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

"It's only a spell," I assured him. "Besides it's the cards you want. Each pack's got a famous witch or wizard."

"I got about five hundred meself," Ron added.

As Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog, I peeked over his shoulder to see which card he got. I wanted to see his reaction to the moving picture.

The card showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache: Albus Dumbledore.

"Hey, I got Dumbleodre!" Harry exclaimed.

"I got about six of him," Ron replied.

Harry looked back down at the card and, shocked, said, "Hey, he's gone,"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day, can you?" said Ron, as if should have been obvious.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone, now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knowk on the door of our compartment and a round-faced boy came in, looking tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When we all shook our heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"I'm sure he'll turn up," I told the boy.

"Yes," the boy said miserably. "Well, if you see him…" He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose ti as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

Said rat was still snoozing in Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron said in disgust. "Fred have me a spell to turn him yellow. Want to see?" he asked us.

"Yeah," Harry said eagerly.

I couldn't really see the appeal of a yellow rat, but I said, "Sure,"

Ron rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway. He cleared his throat the began the spell.

"Sun -"

Just as he raised his wand, the compartment door slid open again. This time, a girl was here. She lots of bushy brown hair, rather large front teeth, and was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." Her voice sounded somewhat bossy.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron said, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see then."

Ron looked taken aback, but continued. He cleared his throat again. "_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid fat rat yellow_!" He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers was still gray and fast asleep.

I couldn't help laughing a little.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked. "Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me. For example…" she said, sitting down across from Harry. She pointed her wand directly at his battered glasses and said, "Oculus Reparo." With a _snap! _sound, Harry's glasses were completely repaired.

My eyes widened and Harry took his glasses off, staring at them in amazement.

"That's better, isn't it?" the girl said. Then, she noticed Harry's scar. "Holy cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" she asked me and Ron.

"Andromeda Black, but I prefer Andie," I replied. When she didn't respond at my surname, I knew she was Muggle-born, they were the only ones who didn't know about the Blacks' dark history.

"I'm…" Ron paused to chew, his mouth full of candy. "Ron Weasley," he finished.

"Pleasure," Hermione replied, sounding slightly disgusted. "You three had better change into you robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." she advised, standing up and heading for the compartment door.

As she reached the door, she turned back around and looked at Ron. "You've got dirt on you nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there." she told him pointing.

Ron hurriedly rubbed his nose, embarrassed.

I couldn't help snickering a bit, causing Ron to give me a small glare.

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked Ron, probably hoping to distract him.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. He seemed gloomy once again. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not."

"So, what do your brothers do now that they've left Hogwarts?" I asked Ron, trying to take his mind off houses.

"Charlie's in Romania, studying dragons; and Bill's in Africa, doing something for Gringotts," Ron said. "What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked suddenly, looking to me first, as if daring me to say I didn't like the game.

"Hollyhead Harpies," I responded proudly.

Ron nodded in approval, though I doubted it was his favorite team. Then he looked to Harry, waiting his answer. I didn't think Harry would even know what Quidditch was, being raised ignorant of our world for ten years. And I was right.

"Er - I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!?" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world." And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions fo the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money.

I peered out of the window. It was getting dark. I could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing down. I told Harry and Ron that we'd be there soon, so we had ought to change.

I left to change, while the boys put their robes in the compartment. I came back in when I was sure they'd be done and saw Ron's were a bit short for him; I could see his sneakers underneath.

A voice echoed throughout the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

My stomach fluttered with nerves.

Ron and Harry crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and then we all joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and I heard a voice calling, "Right then. Firs' years! This way, please! Come on, now, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!"

We separated from the others and approached the giant. Harry seemed very casual and then he giant spoke more softly. "Hello, Harry,"

"Hey, Hagird," Harry responded.

My jaw dropped and Ron said, "Whoa,"

"Right then. This way to the boats! Come on, now, follow me." Hagrid called.

Slipping and stumbling we followed him down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Nobody spoke much.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrents and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat! Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Ron, and I were followed into a boat by Neville, the boy who had lost his toad.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was a smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our heads and the boats carried us through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. We were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbor, where we clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Then we clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

We walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

This was it.


End file.
